


The Ones You Least Expect

by prometheanTactician



Category: Homestuck, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/prometheanTactician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Droog is doing time, and the only people who knew enough to put him in there are his boss, and his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ones You Least Expect

No one thought anyone in the Crew would get prison time. They owned the City. Hell, Spades Slick fucking made the City. Wasn't nothing but desert sand and death before he got ambitious about it. No one was gonna put people like that away, especially not when they were so careful about evidence. Yet, lo and behold, there was Slicks right hand man, Diamonds Droog himself, in a cell. It was already a life sentence, extended by the hell he'd raised when they'd first made him put on the orange jumpsuit, and the Crew was going nuts trying to get him out of there, though it wasn't looking good.

It was a pretty routine job. Someone pissed off the boss, Slick always got caught up in the petty shit, but decided he didn't want to handle it. He had better things to do, but wanted the guy to pay. Droog was good at violence, so he taught the guy a lesson, made him beg for death, and then dumped him somewhere discreet. It was professional. It was clean. Well, it was clean after he got rid of all the blood. He didn't slip up. He never slipped up. But somehow, cops had still showed up at his door. They said there was a witness, but like hell would he ever let a witness live. The only people who even knew where he was that night were Slick, who would never betray him, and the Inspector. His Inspector. Droog hadn't told him exactly what he was doing or where he was going, just that he was working, but the Inspector was smart. If Droog said he was working and someone disappeared the next morning, well, he knew what the mobster had been up to.

It was a mistake, how he'd let the Inspector get so close. It had started out as something casual, no strings attached, but next thing he knew they were practically living together, he stopped seeing anyone else he had before, and suddenly he and the Inspector were known as “a thing”. It was ridiculous, it was stupid, and he'd known the whole time it would come back to bite him in the ass. But he thought that would be with someone using the Inspector against him, hurting him to get to Droog, not the detective himself betraying him. But who else could it be? Now he was locked behind bars, forced to wear an orange jumpsuit, with no idea how his daughter was doing, knowing that one of the two people outside of the Crew he'd allowed himself to give a damn about had stabbed him in the back, and hadn't even had the guts to do it literally. The Russian was not at all pleased, to say the least.

As such, when he was told he had a visitor and walked into the booth to find the Inspector on the other side of the glass, he turned right back around and began to walk out. He was stopped by a CO, who manhandled him in a way he'd have killed anyone for trying before, and sat him down in the seat. The Inspector was a sight to see. Dried blood around his nails from chewing at them, picking at the cuticles, wringing his hands and gnawing at his bottom lip, which was faring no better than his nails. His eyes looked puffy, as if he'd been crying, and the bags and bruises beneath them spoke volumes of how much sleep he'd been getting, which was precisely none. Before, that would have invoked some sort of emotion in Droog, but now he was just glad to see it. If he had to suffer this humiliation, then the Inspector wouldn't get out of it unscathed either.

He just sat there. Didn't pick up the phone so they could talk, grey eyes just staring flatly into wide, watercolour blue. Shakily, the Inspector reached out and grabbed the phone, holding it and waiting for Droog to pick his up as well. He didn't, and in response the gumshoe started fidgeting with the phone as well. Droog was unsure if he mouthed the word “please” or actually said it, but some part of him that still loved the fucking traitor made him pick up the phone, just to wipe that pathetic look off of his face. That action alone made him relax a little, and Droog hated the way that almost made him happy. The mobster did not say a word, letting the man opposite him stutter and stumble, trying desperately to say something.

“I- I-I'm very glad to- to see you- I-” 

“You have a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Droog cut him off immediately, voice low, dangerous, like he'd gut the Inspector if they were on the same side of the glass. The other man flinched, and though Droog's expression never changed from constant neutrality, he found it deeply satisfying.

“B-but- but why? I- I wanted to- to see you. I've... I've missed you.” He sounded so heartbroken. His voice even cracked, but Droog was unmoved. Really, he was. He just narrowed his eyes, and tried to stay calm.

“Then I suppose you shouldn't have thrown me in here.” His companion seemed to go into full panic mode at that. His already gaping eyes couldn't get any wider, but his entire demeanour shifted in something akin to horror.

“M-m-mmmm-m-” He couldn't even speak for a moment, looking so genuinely shocked. “Me?!” He all but spit the word out, gasping in a breath afterwards, continuing in a horrified whisper. “Me? D-Droog, no- No, I didn't- You can't possibly think-”

“I'm not interested in playing your games, Inspector. Not anymore.” His tone was laced with venom, pure, unadulterated hatred. The look of horror on the Inspectors face was replaced with one of despair. “Slick was the only one who knew where I was going that night, and you were the only other one who knew I'd be out that night. Only the two of you had the ability to put me in here, and say what you will about him, but Slick wouldn't rat me out.” 

“Neither would I!” He'd never heard the Inspector raise his voice, never seen him so worked up. The taller, albeit scrawnier man was clutching that phone with both trembling hands, completely focused on one thing for once as he looked Droog in the eyes. The Inspector wasn't a liar. He was honest to a fault. If he had turned Droog in, he would admit it. He'd apologize. He did not apologize or admit anything, continuing in a more sensible tone. “I love you. Surely you- you haven't forgotten that? I- I wouldn't- I would never d-d-d-do this- You- I-” And the Inspector started crying. The man was a nervous wreck on a good day, but it took a hell of a lot to make him cry.

He really hadn't done this.

Well, now Droog just felt like a total asshole. He leaned forward in his seat, expression softening just a little bit. When he spoke this time, it was the quiet, gentle tone only the man across from him got to hear. “I didn't forget, Inspector. But in my... frustration with the situation, I may have overlooked that fact.” The Prospitian opened his eyes from shutting them against the tears, wiping his cheeks on his sleeve. “But if you didn't do it, then who did?”

“I-it was- it was the n-neighbour. He s-said when you were done, he d-drove past you on his way home, as y-you were leaving. When the man t-turned up missing the next d-day, he r-reported what he'd seen. Slick- Slick scattered his limbs around the City as a- a warning.” He sounded disgusted about that.

“Are they any closer?” He didn't have to specify what he meant. Closer to getting him out.

“Sweet GPI, I h-hope so. It... I'm not safe t-talking to Slick with you gone, so I don't know.” He admitted, sounding apologetic.

“Get Sleuth to ask him. He's not totally immune, but there's a limit to how much Slick's willing to hurt him. More than most can say, and better him than you.” Pickle wouldn't agree, but then, they'd always disagreed on how much Sleuth's life and safety were worth.

“I- Is there any way I could... I could-” He made a vague gesture between the two of them.

“Talk to me without the glass in the way?” The mobster finished for him. Usually, he made the Inspector work through his verbal hangups, but they didn't have a lot of time. The detective nodded. “Not just yet. I'm high risk, after all. Maybe if I behave and don't shank anyone, but I'm not planning on sticking around long enough for any privileges to come to me.” He meant that to be comforting, the fact that he planned on getting out, but the Inspector just whined and looked like he was going to start crying again. “Listen to me. You're going to be fine.” But the man across from him just shook his head.

“I-It's not me I'm worried about... Just... Just b-be safe? B-be okay. I- I- It hasn't even b-been that long and I- I miss you s-so much, I-”

“How's Aradia?” Droog asked quickly, never having been all that comfortable with emotional talk like that. The Inspector sniffled, then took a shaky breath before answering.

“S-she's staying with- with me and N-Nepeta. Slick's b-been h-helping the f-f-fff-financial situation... i-is he going to use that a-against me later?”

“He'll just take what he gave you out of my account. Is she okay?”

“Sh-she's a s-s-strong girl. N-Nepeta's been helping her out. She's s-scared for you, though.”

“You let her know not to be, alright?” The CO shouted to let them know they only had a minute left. “Tell her I'm getting out of here. Tell her I'm okay.” He watched as the Inspector nodded, and the CO approached to take him out of there.

“I- I will. I love you- I do, I l-love you and I miss you and I- I'll make sure they- they get you out.” He didn't start crying again, but it was a damn near thing. Droog wanted to say it back, to return the sentiment, but as always he simply... couldn't. He could never express these things verbally, and now he wasn't allowed to express them physically either.

“I know. Take care of yourself, you understand me? Make sure you remember to eat, get some sleep, do not start with the drinking again.” His tone was stern, but the Inspector knew him well enough to recognize the concern. The shaky man just nodded as the CO took the phone from Droog and hung it up, taking him away. It took the trembling Prospitian a moment before he could make himself hang up as well, and managed to keep from crying again until he was back home.


End file.
